


Manners of Salvation

by GeneralWayne



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 13:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3292721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneralWayne/pseuds/GeneralWayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "Paradise Lost," Abbie encounters the fallen angel Orion in her living room. Only problem is, she didn't call him there. Takes place after the episode and AU from that point forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He crashed into her living room, a blur of black feathers and leather tumbling end over end. Wings unfurled, he knocked a lamp to the ground and bowled over an end table before hitting the wall with a thud. A set of pictures—two sisters, smiling—fell down on top of the creature, who groaned at the impact of plastic and glass.

Upon hearing the commotion, Abbie ran into the room with her gun drawn. She could see the messy heap of a creature, half hidden by his wings. The figure was still, his breathing labored and uneven.

Abbie ran over and kicked the figure onto his back. She put a boot on his neck and cocked her weapon. Looking closely, she saw it was an angel, battered and bruised. One eye was swollen shut, his face covered with blood. The angel made no move to resist, hissing slightly as she increased the pressure on his neck. Realization dawned on her slowly.

"Orion?" she breathed. Under her foot, she felt the angel grunt in response.

The lieutenant made no move to release the rebel angel from where she had pinned him. She steadied her grip on her weapon. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

From the ground, Orion wheezed an answer. "I was in a battle," he said, pausing to cough violently. "I was losing, badly. I remember losing consciousness, but nothing after that."

Abbie shook her head. "That doesn't add up," she said, pressing down again with her foot. "Try again."

"I swear I tell you the truth," Orion said, his voice strained. "Perhaps you summoned me with the charm that I gave you."

"Sorry," Abbie said, "can't say that you've been on my mind recently, what with the end of the world on our doorstep."

Orion turned his gaze to look at the far wall. Abbie saw an emotion pass over his features, flickering so fast she not identify it. "If you did not summon me, I cannot tell you how I came to be here," he said. "Witness, I swear to you, I did not appear of my own accord. If you will allow me to sit up, then perhaps I can leave from wherever we are."

Abbie looked around at the damage the angel had wrought and raised an eyebrow. "It'd be nice if you cleaned up first," Abbie said. She released her boot from his neck but did not lower her weapon. "Go ahead," she said.

"Thank you," Orion said, pushing himself up so that he could brace himself against the wall. From where she was standing, Abbie could see that the angel was badly wounded. His leather jerkin was sliced in several places, revealing skin underneath that was deeply cut. His wings were bloody, feathers missing and the remainder in disarray. Abbie could tell that he was favoring one of the wings, doing his best not to lean back against it.

Orion followed her gaze, sensing her question. "I can't fold them back," he said, wincing as he tried to straighten further. "I'm sorry if it is a frightening sight, many humans in the past were-"

"I've seen worse," Abbie said, cutting the angel off before he could speak further. Unbidden, countless images came to her mind of the recent battles she'd waged alongside her fellow witness. A pair of wings was nothing, not after the Wendingo.

At the thought of Ichabod, relief washed over her. She would tell him that Orion had returned and together, they would come up with a plan. She lowered her weapon slightly, holding it in her one hand as she reached in her pocket for her cell phone.

"Please, wait," Orion said. Abbie stopped, but made no motion to set down her weapon or lower her guard.

"I know you are reaching for your communication device," Orion said. "Please, do not tell the other witness I am here. I plan to leave as soon as I'm able. You have it on my word as a member of the Angelic Host."

Abbie raised an eyebrow at the angel's oath. "I think your time in that service was a long time ago," she said. "If I remember correctly, it was before you rebelled against Heaven and got sent to purgatory."

"Abagail," he said, his gold eyes meeting her own. "I give you my word. I mean no harm to you or your partner. Please, allow me to leave without alerting anyone to my presence."

He looked up at her, his eyes pleading. "Even now, I think we understand each other," he said. "I mean only to further the forces of good, to ensure the triumph over evil."

"You got a strange way of showing it," Abbie said. Orion looked at her, and then hung his head.

"There have been mistakes," he said slowly. "Perhaps at times, it is difficult to find the right way."

Abbie let her hand fall from her pocket. She crouched down next to the angel, looking more closely at his injuries. "I don't want you to ever come back here," she said. "Not even on accident."

Just as before, an unrecognizable emotion crossed the angel's features. "I swear," he said.

"Good," Abbie said. "Now, you're bleeding all over my living room," she said. "Stay there, I'll be back with supplies." As she walked down the hallway to the bathroom, she could have sworn she heard the angel behind her wheeze out a laugh.

Moments later, Abbie returned with a medical supply kit. The practicalities of engaging in a war against the forces of evil had required her to upgrade her emergency aid supplies, and time after time, she found it to be a useful investment. She tried not to think about the implications of needing such supplies on such a frequent basis as she walked back into the living room. The angel was still propped up against the wall. Placing the gun on the remaining end table and opening the kit, she crouched down and attended to the most pressing injures across his torso. With a little coaxing, she was able to remove his tunic, leaving him clad in his leather pants.

Against his black wings and dark pants, Orion looked hopelessly pale. The loss of blood probably didn't help, Abbie thought to herself, tending to the cuts and bruises that had bloomed across his chest.

Despite her thorough cleaning with astringent, the angel remained silent and still. She heard him take a sharp breath when she cleaned one particularly deep wound, and afterwards she took extra care in winding the gauze around him.

Unlike their first meeting, when Abbie peppered the angel with questions, this time she was silent. She wanted to know what had done this to the angel, she wanted to know how it was that angels could bleed, but she decided against asking. It was enough to tend to his injuries and send him on his way. Orion had broken the trust of the witnesses, and it was not easily regained. Orion, for his part, kept his eyes cast to the ground, obeying the lieutenant's commands.

"Alright," Abbie said, "we're going to take care of the cuts on your wings." She turned her attention to his left wing, since she saw that he was doing his best to keep his weight off of it. There was an exceptionally deep gash along the musculature closest to his shoulder. Abbie pulled the angel forward to better examine his injury when he pulled back suddenly.

"It's fine," he said, his voice laced with pain. "You don't have to trouble yourself any further."

Abbie looked at the rebel angel and glared. "Are you serious?"

"I'm fine," he said, putting his hands on the ground as if to push himself to standing. Abbie pushed his hands out of the way and pressed a hand against his now-bandaged chest.

"Orion," she said, meeting his eyes once more. "You've got to trust me. I'm not going to hurt you."

Gold eyes scanned her face, but for what Abbie couldn't tell. The angel looked at the ground, his shoulders slumped around him. "Are you not disgusted," Orion asked, his voice quiet. "There is a reason that God's favorite creations were made without wings."

Abbie felt her heart drop. "No," she said. "No, I'm not. And I need to take a look at that cut, so get over here."

Orion sighed and leaned forward to allow Abbie to examine his injury. On her knees, Abbie leaned over the angel to get a better look at the deep gash. Frowning, she saw something protruding from the wound.

"Alright," she said. "I need you to lean over into the light." The angel obeyed, and Abbie could see that a shard of metal had embedded itself in the cut.

"Orion," she said, pushing the angel back to catch his gaze. "What I'm about to do is going to hurt. So I'm going to need you to trust me."

The angel nodded, his face set in grim determination. With a deep breath, Abbie reached behind him and as gently as possible, used a pair of tweezers to pull the piece of metal from his back. Orion cried out quietly, sagging against her for a moment. Abbie felt her heart leap in her chest. Despite her better judgment, she felt sorry for him.

"It's done," she said gently, applying antiseptic to the wound. "It's done, you're good." She bandaged the injury as best she could, brushing the feathers into some semblance of order. They were softer than she imagined, and Abbie found herself marveling at the mess of a creature currently sitting in front her.

As she brushed a particularly out-of-order set of feathers back into place, she felt Orion shiver. She paused in her ministrations.

"I'm sorry," Orion said, his face reddening.

"It's alright," Abbie said, finding herself suddenly embarrassed. The angel was unused to comfort, she realized, and she felt her heart twist at the thought.

After what seemed hours, she had finished her treatment of Orion's injuries. As he sat on her floor, a bit of color had returned to his pale skin, his wings relaxed behind him. With Abbie's help he pulled himself to standing, leaning slightly on the much shorter woman.

"Thank you," he said, reaching to pick up his discarded leather jerkin. "Witness, I plan to honor my promise. I am grateful for your help and will not return to Sleepy Hollow."

Abbie looked up Orion, now looming over her. "You're welcome," she said. The angel released her and stood under his own power. He took a deep breath, preparing himself to leave.

"Wait," Abbie said, speaking before she realized what she was doing. "You're still hurt. Rest here for tonight. You can sleep out here, on this," she said, gesturing at the couch. "And leave in the morning."

Internally, Abbie kicked herself, wondering when she'd developed such a soft spot for broken things. Unbidden, the memory of the Sheriff Corbin flashed across her memory. Orion looked at her with a pained expression on his face.

"I do not wish to be a burden," he said. "I'm sure that if I'm careful, I'll be able to leave this realm."

"With my luck," Abbie said, pushing him towards the couch, "you'll get halfway gone and end up falling right back here, ruining what's left of my furniture."

Orion sighed, allowing the diminutive woman to push him. Sitting down gingerly, he lay on his side. Abbie grabbed a blanket from a nearby chair and covered him.

"Rest," she said. "Don't pull any crazy angel nonsense while I'm asleep."

She looked down to see that Orion had fallen asleep nearly instantly. Shaking her head, she regarded the fallen angel, sleeping so soundly in her presence. Orion shifted, and Abbie watched as the last bit of strain fell from his features. Briefly, she wondered what she'd gotten into, and her heart ached at the thought of not telling Ichabod of the angel's sudden reappearance.

Tucking the cover in more securely around him, she looked at the disheveled room. In the next moment, she felt exhaustion overwhelm her. The strain of Orion's entrance and the subsequent medical attention had left her drained.

She picked up her weapon from where she had laid it on the end table. Walking back to her bedroom, she placed the gun underneath her pillow and changed for bed. She slipped under the covers, and settled in to rest. Her last thoughts were of Ichabod, his features fading into Orion's and back again, before falling into a dreamless sleep.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Abbie woke up slowly, her thoughts far from the events of the day before. Sunlight fell in golden ribbons across the room, warming the covers, making it difficult to consider ever venturing back out into the cold and the dark beyond her bed.

She was rested, and she was warm. The tribulations of her life seemed far away. In the next moment, memories of yesterday flooded back, shocking her as if the recollection was electric.

"Orion," she breathed, sitting up with a start. She climbed out of bed, grabbed her bathrobe and padded quietly to her living room. As she turned the corner, she saw the destruction from the angel's entrance. She thought to herself how strange her life had become. Between Ichabod and the end of the world, the mess in front of her was the least of her worries.

As she suspected, the couch was empty. Abbie let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Though the rest of the room was disheveled, the blanket she used to cover the angel was neatly folded and placed on the edge of the couch.

Abbie walked over to the couch and reached out to touch the blanket, feeling it still warm. Part of her was relieved that the angel had kept his promise. As long as Orion stayed far away from Sleepy Hollow, she and Ichabod could figure out a way to stop the end of the world.

With a sigh, she sat down on the couch, pulling the blanket into her arms. Though moments before she had awoke rested, the thought of her role as witness brought exhaustion crashing down. She buried her face in the soft fabric and folded over on herself. A terrible, small voice in the back of her mind wondered whether anything she and Ichabod did was worth it.

Unbidden, the thought of Jenny came to her mind, and with a shake of her head she banished the dark thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her. Even if she had doubts, Abbie thought to herself, she owed it to the ones she loved to try and stop what loomed on the horizon.

"Tribulations be damned," she said to herself. She stood up and shook out the blanket in order to re-fold it. A single black feather fell out of the fabric, and Abbie bent over to pick it up. Examining up the feather, she turned it over in her hands. It seemed as if any other, save for the size and the deep, almost bottomless black color.

"You were supposed to clean up this whole mess," she said, shaking her head and placing the feather gently on the remaining end table. She tossed the now-folded blanket back on the couch. It was time to get to work. Time to clean up this mess, go meet Ichabod and get back to saving the day. Though it was strange, and though it might cost her life, here was something comforting about knowing her place and her purpose in the world.

She turned around to find herself facing a blade. Gasping, she took a step back, only to find herself bracketed by a trio of strange, tall men with large, black wings. Fallen angels, Abbie thought to herself.

"Can't seem to get rid of you guys," she said, her mind racing, scanning the room for something to use as a weapon.

The angel behind her seized her shoulders, holding her in place. The angel in front of her pressed the blade further towards her neck.

"Tell us where you hid him," growled the angel with the blade. "We know he was here." With a glance, the angel looked over to the table where Abbie had placed the lone black feather.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Abbie said, her voice calm. Though she found herself in danger, her instincts steadied her nerves. She needed to buy time. She needed to think of a plan.

"Liar," said the angel with the blade. "We are here to finish what he started. Tell us where he is."

"I honestly don't know," Abbie said, her voice wavering slightly. "I told him to get as far away from here as possible. I told him to never come back to Sleepy Hollow, and he agreed."

"She's telling the truth," said the third angel.

"Still," said the angel with the blade. "She is a sinner. She has doubts, even though she is a witness. She should be punished." He raised his weapon, and Abbie struggled against the iron grip of her captor.

Abbie looked up to see the bright metal in the bright morning sun. She closed her eyes and turned away. In the next moment she heard a scream, finding herself surprised it was not her own. She opened her eyes to see the angels around her doubled over in pain. She felt something cold and wet across her face and looked down, expecting to see blood.

Instead, she saw only water.


	3. Chapter 3

The angels reeled at the onslaught of water, smoke rising from their skin. Abbie turned around to find Orion standing with an empty bucket.

"Leave, now," he said to the angels, his voice laced with menace.

Hissing and screaming, the angels opened their black wings and crashed through the living room window.

After all the commotion it was suddenly silent. Abbie blinked through the water and looked at Orion. The fallen angel was still as a statute, his white-knuckle grip the only evidence that he was shaken.

"What was that?" Abbie said, wiping the water from her eyes.

"Holy water," Orion said. "Toxic to the fallen. When one rejects salvation, blessings become a curse."

He set down the bucket and pulled back his sleeve, revealing fresh burn marks. "Exceptionally painful," he said.

"How did you know," Abbie said, wincing at the sight of the burns on the angel's arm. "I thought you had left. We had an agreement-"

"Witness, I swear to you that I did," Orion said. "When I woke this morning I found my wounds healed, thanks in no small part to your assistance yesterday. However, while I could fly again, I found that I could not leave this realm."

With a roll of his shoulders, his wings disappeared behind him. He took a step closer to her, his height suddenly looming. Abbie felt an urge to step backwards, but she stood firm.

"Though bound to this earth, I still intended to honor our agreement and leave Sleepy Hollow," Orion said. "I had just taken to the air when I saw the angels approaching from the East."

"So you came back," Abbie said.

"Yes," he said. A look close to shame crossed his features. "Yes, I returned and broke our promise."

"And the bucket," Abbie said. "The holy water."

"I have no weapon now," Orion said. "I had to improvise, as you would say. And of those three before you, I knew Galadreel never could stand pain." He paused, looking at the bucket beside him.

Abbie shook her head. "So you broke into a church to find something to use against them."

Orion nodded, his expression grim. "The loss of the stained glass window in the church was unfortunate, but the door to the church was locked," he said. "I am sure the pastor will understand why a swift exit was essential."

Internally, Abbie winced at the thought of the paperwork from the inevitable vandalism call. "So, you knew them," she said. "They were looking for you."

"Yes," Orion said. "We once served together." He fell silent and looked out over the horizon.

Abbie pressed her lips together, but didn't speak. Orion turned to face her. "I will honor our promise," he said. "Though I cannot leave this realm, I will leave Sleepy Hollow."

"Wait," Abbie said. "Who are those angels—why are they here?"

"My fellow fallen brethren," Orion said. "It was they who I fought before I found myself transported to your home. They must have tracked me here, but if I leave they surely will follow."

"I don't think so," Abbie said. "They said they were here to finish what you started."

Orion took in a sharp breath, fixing his golden stare on the woman in front of him.

"Abagail," he said, "are you quite sure that is what they said?"

"Yes," Abbie said, feeling exposed under the angel's gaze. She watched as the Orion's expression darkened. He turned away, staring out into the middle distance.

"This was not the plan," he said. Abbie watched as he unconsciously rubbed the arm that had been burnt by the holy water.

"Orion," she said, suddenly reach out to grasp his shoulder. "You said you saw something in me. That we were kindred spirits."

The angel looked at her, nodding silently. Abbie saw him glance down at her outstretched arm, but he did not move away.

"Trust me when I say that sometimes, you gotta have reinforcements," she said. "Promise me that you won't kickstart the end of the world, and we'll help you get out of here and stop those guys from doing whatever they're trying to do."

Orion looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face. "This world deserves judgment," he said.

"Yes, yes of course," Abbie said, waiving her other hand. "I've heard this before. I'm just saying that you stopped those angels from slicing me up. And whatever they've got planned, you want to stop them as much as I do."

"You've switched teams before," she continued, trying to keep her voice light. "What's wrong with a new allegiance?"

Orion made a face, crossing his arms over his chest and pulling away from her hand. "Abagail," he said, his voice warning.

"What, too soon?" she asked, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Listen-you need our help, and we could use yours. For real this time."

As Abbie watched the angel's shoulders slump, she knew that she'd won.

"I need to call Ichabod," she said, reaching for her phone. "And I'm not going to argue about that," she said, cutting the angel off before he had a chance to speak. "I don't see what you have against him. I was the one that double-crossed you."

Orion shook his head, but said nothing.

"You're really not good with the whole conversation thing, are you?" Abbie said, holding the phone to her ear and listening to the familiar ring. "It's a change from what I'm used to, I'll say that. Ichabod would talk for days, if you'd let him."

"He does not doubt," Orion said, his voice quiet. "In his heart, he does not doubt, and I do not understand it."

Just then, Abbie heard Ichabod answer the phone.

"Abbie?" Ichabod said, his voice heavy with sleep. "Are you alright?"

"I need you to come over," Abbie said, her mind still reeling from Orion's words.

"Of course," Ichabod replied, sounding suddenly alert.

Abbie hung up the phone and looked up at the angel. "Ichabod's going to be here in a few minutes," she said, willing her voice to stay steady. "While we're waiting, you're going to make good on your promise and help me pick some of this up."

Orion looked up to heaven, and then back down at the diminutive lieutenant in front of him. "I don't remember agreeing to clean up your living space, Abagail."

"One of you heavenly host is gonna help clean up this mess you made," Abbie said, reaching to right what was left of her fallen bookshelf. "I don't know why this even happened. I thought a bunch of you could fit on the head of a pin."

Orion shook his head and snorted. At the sight of his lightened features, Abbie felt her heart soar. They could do this, Abbie thought, feeling determination sew strength into her heart. She and Ichabod could figure out who these angels were, and how to get them out of town.

She needed to pick up the broken glass. She needed to tape plastic over the window and throw out the broken end table. She didn't have time to think why she was so relieved that this fallen angel was back in her house, helping her silently put her home back in order.

There would be time to worry about that, Abbie thought. Just not now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** In this particular chapter, a character makes reference to non-con when describing the past. While it is only a passing reference, please skip this chapter if this is a trigger for you. I don't wish to bring undue harm on any of my readers, and so I thought a warning was appropriate. With that caveat in mind, I present the latest chapter in our saga.

* * *

Abbie pressed her fingers to her temples, willing away the headache that needled the back of her mind. Next to her, Ichabod leaned against the table. Unfinished arguments hung heavy in the air between them. Internally, Abbie sighed. The meeting between the witnesses and the rebel angel was off to a rocky start. After an initial confrontation, she had been forced to separate the two men, dragging Ichabod into the kitchen to devise a game plan.

"Well, it appears our feathered foe has returned with all his charm intact," Ichabod said, breaking the silence that had descended over the pair.

Abbie sighed. "So it would seem," she said. "Destroyed half my living room in the process."

"And his sudden entrance," Ichabod asked, "you said it was out of nowhere."

Abbie frowned, sensing disbelief in Ichabod's voice. She stood up abruptly and faced her partner.

"I didn't call him here, if that's what you're implying," Abbie said.

"I didn't say—I did not intend to draw any inference," Ichabod said. "I am merely trying to divine exactly how Orion came back into our midst."

"Even if I wanted to have called him," Abbie said. "I couldn't. I lost the charm."

"I see," Ichabod said, looking away from her. "And when he appeared, what did he ask of you?"

"At first, he didn't ask anything," Abbie said. ""He was hurt, cut all up, all over. This morning he told me he had been in a fight with the three angels that chased him here."

"But he didn't say why he chose you, or for what reason he returned?" Ichabod asked.

"He said he didn't know," Abbie said. She paused and looked at her partner. "If you'll keep your temper in check this time, maybe we could ask him-"

"-in a minute, yes," Ichabod said, pressing a hand to his head in a mirror of Abbie's earlier motion. "But first we need to have a united front against this creature. We cannot trust him."

"He saved my life," Abbie said. "He didn't have to come back, but he did." In her mind, she thought back to the day before, when the angel sat helpless in front of her.

"It is his fault you were ever placed in danger," Ichabod countered.

Abbie took a deep breath, shaking her head to clear her mind of the memory of Orion pressed against her. "We're fighting," she said. "And the only time we ever have a chance is when we work together, when we trust each other."

Ichabod nodded, visibly relaxing. "As usual, you are correct. I am sorry, at times my fear for your safety causes me to lose rationality." He reached out for Abbie's hand. "As always, lieutenant, I have complete faith in you."

Abbie took Ichabod's hand and squeezed it, drawing strength from the gesture. Unbidden, Orion's words returned to her. The angel was right, Abbie thought. Ichabod believed in her completely. With another tight squeeze, she let go of her partner's hand.

"Alright," she said. "Let's go talk to him."

Abbie opened the front door of her house to find the rebel angel sitting on her front porch swing. The absurdity of Orion, leather and menace sitting on a porch swing, would be ridiculous in any other lifetime than her own.

She saw the angel glance her direction when the door opened, but pointedly looked away once he saw her. Abbie felt her headache return. It was bad enough dealing with one brooding man out of time, but to deal with two was more trouble than she was equipped to handle. And that was saying something, Abbie thought to herself.

She cleared her throat, but Orion still stared out at the middle distance, avoiding her gaze. "Orion," she said. Still, the angel ignored her. She repeated his name, this time with authority.

The angel turned his golden gaze towards her, his face an impassive mask. Abbie tried best not to laugh at the petulant angel, trying his best to be tough while sitting on a porch swing.

"We need you to tell us everything that you know about these angels," she said. "So that we can figure out a way to stop them."

Orion shook his head. "You can't stop them," he said. "They're immensely powerful."

"We managed to prevent your progress," Ichabod said, his tone icy. "Surely we might manage to do the same to your friends."

Orion stood up, drawing his shoulders up to his fullest height. He glared at Ichabod. "They are no friends of mine," he said. "I have not seen those three since shortly after the Fall."

"The Fall," Abbie asked. "You don't mean-"

"The rebellion against Heaven," Ichabod said, a hint of wonder in his voice. "You were among those cast out from Heaven."

Orion looked up to the sky, then back down at the two witnesses in front of him. "After he," Orion said, gesturing at the sky, "created you—created humans—a portion of the Angelic Host were sent to watch over humanity."

The angel paused, looking down at the ground. "Humanity was God's greatest creation," Orion continued, "and it was our duty to protect you from any evil. But for all his power, there was no thought of watching those sent to guard his precious treasure."

"The Book of Enoch," Ichabod said slowly, comprehension in his voice. "But it was said that those stories were apocryphal-"

"Not all of them," Orion said, fixing his golden eyes in a hard stare at Ichabod.

Abbie looked from one tall man to the other, uncomprehending. "Does somebody want to fill me in on what's going on here?"

"There are a set of ancient texts," Ichabod said, "in which there are tales of angels who were sent to guard the new human race. They taught humanity forbidden arts, they disclosed knowledge that was not yet to be known. Then, they grew lustful and forced themselves upon human women." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Women who gave birth to a terrible race of giants."

Orion stood silent, his face set in a grim line. As on the first night in her home, Abbie saw the ghost of some immeasurable pain reflected in his eyes.

"Giants?" Abbie said. "As in, Jack and the Beanstalk? As in, 'fee fi fo fum?'"

Both men turned to look at Abbie with a confused look on their faces.

"Never mind," she said.

"Monsters," Ichabod said softly. "Wiped out in the Biblical flood that spared only Noah and his family."

Abbie took in a sharp breath.

"It is said the angels were cast down into hell, where they would remain in chains until Judgment Day," Ichabod explained.

Orion nodded, saying nothing.

"But you're here, they're here," Abbie said.

"They must have escaped," Orion said. "With the revelation of the Witnesses, the appearance of the Horseman of Death, perhaps they found an escape from Hell as I did from Purgatory."

"Either they escaped," Abbie said, "or somebody let them out."

Orion's expression darkened at the thought. "Yes," he said. "It is possible."

"But why?" Ichabod asked, turning once again to face Orion. "Miss Mills said they intended to finish the job that you had started."

"I came here to kill the Horseman," Orion said. "And had you not allowed him to escape I would have succeeded."

"A good man has been trapped under a terrible curse," Ichabod said. "He does not deserve to carry out the terrible task set to him by Moloch."

"Yes," Orion said bitterly, "still there is time for his soul to be saved. He has wavered in his dedication to darkness. He is no longer fit for the role of horseman, though he cannot escape the role on his own."

"So why would you take away a second chance?" Abbie said.

"Humans always seem so interested in redemption," Orion said. "It is not for me to decide. Perhaps the man you call Abraham is worthy of such forgiveness. I can tell you that those searching for me are not interested in conversion to the light, but finding a new vessel for darkness."

"A new Horseman," Ichabod said, a look of recognition coming over his face. "They kill Abraham and place a curse on another."

"Gets the end of the world back on track," Abbie said.

"Indeed," Orion said. "Hastening the day of judgment for us all."

"But what good does that do?" Ichabod asked.

Abbie took in a sharp breath. "Rest of the Watchers are still chained in Hell. Judgment day comes around, they're finally free to try a second attack on Heaven."

Orion nodded. "I believe it is for that reason they came to Sleepy Hollow."

"Well," Abbie said. "How do we stop them?"

"You cannot," Orion said. "My abilities are far superior to your own, and they defeated me quite easily."

"That was before you teamed up with us," said Abbie. "First things first, we need to find Abraham."

Ichabod nodded. "Yes," he said. "It is imperative that we find him before the Watchers do."

"We'll hit the vault," Abbie said. "See if there's something we missed in the texts. Then, time to start looking." Abbie and Ichabod headed for the car, leaving the fallen angel standing on the front porch.

Abbie turned back to Orion. "You coming?" she asked.

For a moment, Abbie watched as Orion struggled with the question. He looked between she and Ichabod, and after several moments, a look of resignation settled on his face. "Yes," he said. "I know marching orders when I hear them."

Abbie shook her head, striding towards the car with purposeful steps. "I'll take that as a compliment. You're in the back." She reached to open the driver's side door, Ichabod on the other side in the the shotgun seat. Orion reached for the handle behind her, catching her eye before she could slide into the car.

"Trust me, Abagail," he said. "I consider it high praise."


	5. Chapter 5

Settled in the vault, surrounded by ancient books and scrolls, Abbie flipped another useless page. It was well after midnight, and research had revealed nothing. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, stretching to stave off the aching tired, the relentless cold that seemed inescapable.

Across from her, Orion was immersed in thought, carefully studying the book before him. They were alone, as Ichabod had left temporarily to pick up coffee and to check in on Katrina, who was off consulting sources of her own in an effort to discover information on their latest threat.

Even the coffee run had been an argument, Abbie thought to herself ruefully. Ichabod was reluctant to leave her with the angel, and it was only after extensive reassurance that he had departed for the convenience store. It wouldn't be great coffee, Abbie thought to herself, but it would most certainly do the trick.

Too tired to concentrate on the scroll in front of her, she looked up at Orion. Their new angel companion, it appeared, was not in need of caffeinated reinforcement.

"I have a question for you," she said. When he did not respond, she waved her hand and called again. The angel looked up, and for a minute Abbie saw a distant look in his eyes.

"Earth to Orion," she said.

Orion shook his head. "Yes," he said. "I was thinking on events from long ago."

Abbie paused, unsure if she should even ask the question that had lingered in her mind after their conversation on the front porch. "What those angels did," she said, her voice hesitant. "Did you—I mean, did you do what they talked about, in the texts?"

Orion set the parchment down gently, looking up at Abbie with golden eyes. In the candle light, their otherworldly quality seemed even more so, molten metal reflecting the soft flame.

"Does it matter?" Orion asked.

"Yes," Abbie said.

Orion cast his eyes down, a pained look upon his face.

"You weren't chained in Hell with them," Abbie said, walking around the corner of the table to stand next to the angel. "After the Horseman killed you, you went to Purgatory, not Hell. I haven't been in this game as long as you, but I know there's a difference between those two places."

"It is of no consequence," Orion said, standing up suddenly. He loomed over Abbie, be she did not give way. She would find out her answer from the rebel angel.

"You were stuck in Purgatory," Abbie repeated. "So whatever you did was different from the rest of them. And I know you're not one for talking but we need to understand everything that happened, so we can stop them now."

"I agreed with their plan," Orion said, suddenly seizing Abbie by the arms. "I did not commit those monstrous acts of lust against those helpless women, that is true. I did not share forbidden knowledge but still, I agreed to join their rebellion. I believed in the wickedness of humanity and that your kind were not worth saving."

Abbie winced as she felt Orion's grip tighten around her arms. "It was foolhardy to ally myself with them. Yet still, I deserve to be chained with them," Orion said. "I deserve the same judgment."

"Orion," Abbie said, struggling against the angel's grasp.

With a sharp breath, Orion released her. "Abagail," he said, retreating to the other side of the room. "I am sorry," he said, knocking over a pile of books in his hasty retreat. "I did not mean—I'm sorry, I have never spoken to anyone about what has transpired since the Fall."

"It's alright," Abbie said. Gingerly, she made her way over to where the much larger angel had wedged himself in a corner, arms folded over himself. The look of guilt and shame was one that Abbie knew well. "It's alright," she said again, soothing with her voice as if faced with a scared animal.

"You ask why I was not sent to Hell," Orion said quietly. Abbie nodded. "Such a sentence would have been a gift," he said. "I was banished by both sides, having rebelled against Heaven and unwilling to join in with my fallen brethren in their abominable plan. So I walk the realms, unwelcome in Heaven or Hell, a soldier without an army."

"So your plan—to make this place a paradise, free from sin," Abbie said. She felt indescribable pity for the creature in front of her as she realized the implications of his confession. "You're trying to create Heaven on Earth."

The angel hung his head, turning away from Abbie.

"Orion," Abbie said, her voice gentle. "Do you still believe the same thing—that humanity isn't worth saving?"

Orion avoided her gaze, but Abbie caught his chin in her hand, pulling him to face her. "Hey," she said, her voice gentle. Reluctantly, he met her eyes.

"Yes," he said quietly. Abbie dropped her hand from his face. He looked at her, and in his gaze Abbie felt an intensity that was absent just moments before. "Yet," he continued slowly, "I am beginning to wonder whether I have been wrong about a great many things."

For one long moment, Abbie and Orion simply looked at each other. "Well," Abbie said finally, feeling her heart twist in her chest. "It's a start." She took a step back, putting distance between them in an attempt to break the spell. It could have been her imagination, but she thought Orion took a step towards her as she retreated.

Just then, Ichabod came through the door, his hands full of provisions. "You will not like what I have to say," Ichabod said, "but they were out of Hazelnut entirely."

Abbie watched as Ichabod took in the sight of the scattered books, piles that had been neatly stacked before his departure. Meeting his partner's eyes, he silently asked whether she was alright, and Abbie nodded. Orion, for his part, remained over by the wall.

"That's all right," Abbie said. "As long as you didn't get Blueberry."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ichabod said, his voice light. "We don't need a repeat of the great Blueberry coffee catastrophe of two thousand thirteen."

Abbie laughed and took the coffee from Ichabod with gratitude. She sipped the warm brew, feeling the warmth spread through her chest. Orion returned to his manuscript at the far table, and Abbie settled in next to Ichabod.

Though she tried to focus as before, she found herself wondering over Orion's confession. Looking up at the angel, she saw him hunched over the table, his shoulders bowed as if a great weight was pressing him from above. She thought back to the look in his eyes as he told her of his fate, to walk forever alone in between the forces of good and evil. Her heart ached to think of such a sentence, and in that moment she was grateful that she had in Ichabod someone she could rely on unconditionally.

Sensing her meditation, Orion looked up and met her eyes. Abbie found herself caught up in his golden gaze, his face unguarded and open. She felt the pieces of her heart turn over, as if gears moving in a mechanism she couldn't yet identify. She smiled slightly, as if to tell him that it was alright for his earlier revelations. At her smile, a look of shame passed over the angel's face. Abbie frowned as Orion quickly looked back down to the book he was reading, his face still slightly red.

Abbie sighed, turning over another page. He shouldn't even matter, she thought to herself. The rebel angel had earned his fate. And yet it did matter, she thought, her heart strung tight with some unbidden emotion.

She could deal with the Watchers. She could deal with whatever trouble they might throw in her way. But whatever it was that drew her to Orion, she thought to herself, that might really be the end of the world.


End file.
